


Difficult Choices

by DrabblingSparks (ingenious_spark)



Series: Silmarillion prompts & short fic [10]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Bad Decisions, Drabble, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, Prompt Fic, Trauma, elwing: is she a swan? albatross? fckin angel? we just dont know and im not sure jirt did either, these two are hard to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 17:08:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18265718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingenious_spark/pseuds/DrabblingSparks
Summary: Eärendil doesn't know the trauma that led his wife to abandon their children, and can't even pretend to understand it.





	Difficult Choices

**Author's Note:**

> From a list of prompts over on my tumblr, [@oopsbirdficced](http://oopsbirdficced.tumblr.com). I open prompts semi-regularly, if you want to come check me out.

Eärendil cradles the albatross a little awkwardly, humming a snatch of a soothing tune. The bird croons at him in return, and suddenly he’s holding an elf, not a bird.

“What?” He gasps, and they slap him. He’s winded by the blow somehow, ears ringing. Maybe it’s the shock, too.

“Where have you been?” A familiar voice growls, sounding close to tears. He looks more properly at the elf, and to his shock, it’s his own wife.

“Elwing?” He murmurs, eyes wide. She bursts into tears at that. At a loss for what to do, he hugs her closer, rocking gently side to side. Guilt rises within him, like bile at the back of his throat. But- there’s something missing.

“Where are the boys?” He asks softly, throat choked. Elwing shivers in his arms.

“The sons of Fëanor had them.” She says, despair thick in her words. That- makes little sense to him. Had she abandoned them? What had happened? He almost turns to his crew, to command them turn for Sirion, but she presses something into his hands. A jeweled chain, with a heavy, shining pendant.

It’s the Nauglamir, and its Silmaril. But why this? Where are their sons?

“Elwing  _where are our children_?” He asks desperately. He knows he’s not the best father, but he still loves his boys.

“Maglor and Maedhros had them. There was no saving them. The sons of Fëanor know no mercy in their hearts. It was useless to try to save them. Eluréd and Elurín stood no chance, nor so will Elros and Elrond.” Elwing’s voice is choked with the years spilling down her cheeks. Eärendil can’t believe her. Her grief had blinded her to the path to save their sons, the bargaining chip she held in her hands? How horrifying.

“Our sons were not your brothers,” he chokes out, but he can’t stay angry in the face of his own grief.

They grieve there for a long while, his sailors giving them a respectful berth. After a little while Elwing raises her tearful face to his, shying a little from meeting his eyes.

“If I kissed you right now, what would you do?” She asks, soft and hesitant. She clearly wants the comfort, and he’s loathe to deny her that.

He kisses her gently, brief and chaste.

“Cone now. We must figure out what to do next.” He tells her, stern but not unkind, raising them both up from the deck.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
>   * Comments not in English
> 

> 
> LLF Comment Builder
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> This author replies to comments. It might take a few days/weeks depending on how busy I am, but you will receive a reply.
> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will respond only with an emoji! I will respond only because I have some compulsive tendencies towards replying to comments.


End file.
